The battle was wearing on and on. It was difficult. Blood was everywhere, both golden and red. As Glykins and Kaelensians, Humans and Zerans, all of them fought, fought to obtain the last remnants of their gods. In order to gain the blessing of those that died and abandoned them, they would ravage the world that the gods made superior for them. If it were, the gods would most likely shake their heads, but it was not to be. Instead, it was simply a bloodbath, where no one would ever look back and realize this was the correct choice. However, when has war ever been 'correct' to the normal mind? For a god, perhaps it might be best for the world, but for a mere mortal...

Squelch!

A Heron was shot down, landing onto the ground with a thud. Crumpled and beaten, the angelic figure's once white uniform was now dyed completely red. He cursed quietly to himself, trying to push himself back up. He couldn't die here, not now. He had someone waiting for him, someone who was probably fighting just as he was! Slowly rising to his feet, he grasped at the things that impaled his chest and knee. Yanking them out, he gasped in pain, but decided to ignore it. Slowly, the injuries began to heal on their own, whether through a blessing, or through some other magic, but he continued onwards.

Declan, that was his name. His love, his life, she was separated from him. She was a Zeran, and he a Heron. Though, he masqueraded as a corbie. With one eye already taken from him, he couldn't stand to lose anything more. Collecting his sword that dropped down with him, he stretched his wings and took to the skies once more, hoping that he wasn't too late.

He hoped that, wherever she was, she was safe.

Slice!

She lethally swung her great sword, the one covered in coppery liquids. Cutting down yet another human who dared stand in her way, she took a moment to pause, a mad grin on her face. When she was like this, she entered a sort of battle-lust. Where, and when, she was like this, she would attack anyone who was nearby. A berserker, in the most simplest of terms. Yet, she was here to fight, as well. Even if many called her mad, even if many called her insane, she still fought for something, just as everyone did in the war.

She fought for power, the power to be with the one she loved. If it was wrong, so be it. Why would they be taken away from each other, just because of their race? She couldn't fathom such a problem. Even still, she continued to fight, on and on. Everything became a blur, long ago. Her injuries were nothing to her; her body's fatigue a mere whisper or suggestion to her mind. If it was true, that they should never be together, why would they allow themselves to be brought before each other in the first place? She had no idea, no idea whatsoever.

She knew she was becoming tired. The humans were 'weak' in comparison to her, but they were numerous, and very smart.

STAB!

She paused, staring downwards at her chest. Something was protruding from it. How strange. Slowly lowering her sword, she glanced backwards, to see who her attacker was.

What stared back at her was either a Heron or a Corbie, perhaps even a Phenex. Yet, in her dazed mind, she swore she saw someone else. The grey hair, the white wings, the sword itself. She just smiled at the person, laughing quietly and bringing herself away from the sword with an intense amount of effort. Turning around, she dropped her sword and suddenly embraced that person.

"I miss you...,"She murmured, as blood poured from her injury, her mouth. She ignored as the woman gasped and commanded her off. She ignored when she was stabbed, over and over.

"I'm... Sorry."

"I broke the promise..."

....

"Why are they fighting? It hurts... Ow! Ow ow, please not like that!"

The grimalkin let out a whining noise as her injuries were tended to. The Grimalkin nurse that was taking care of her just shook his head, continuing to wet and wash the injuries each one carefully.

"I couldn't tell you, really,"Spoke the Grimalkin, his golden eyes scanning through the several people who were waiting to also be looked over. The small hospital was flooded, due to the patients coming more and more from the battlefield, some even coming from being caught in cross-fire. Cease fire would never come, it felt like. He sighed, going to wrap the injuries, next,"They fight for something they don't even understand, I feel... But what am I supposed to know, huh?" He chuckled a little bit, his droopy, tired eyes staring upwards.

He felt desperate, desperate for the battle to end. Desperate, for the world to stop coming to chaos. Yet, he knew that it wouldn't end, no matter how much he prayed to Long Tail.

"...I shall pray once more,"He calmly murmured, before standing up and leaving.

"I write because I wish to write. I am because I want to be. Don't question me, do you really know what's right?"

Water was everywhere, mixing with the life blood of those fallen and those still alive. Bodies laid everywhere, some breathing, some not. It didn't matter, because everyone in this hellish ground would be dead by the time the sun decided to rise up from the dark, dark clouds.

A figure sat in the midst of the bodies, cradling a specific one. Not a lover, no. This person... It was his daughter. They fought together, they promised to watch each others' back, but he failed in the last moment. He, for some reason, believed that he could protect her. Even if they were both brought to the battlefield, he believed that he could shield her from the horrible atrocities that were going on. Innocence should stay innocent. He chuckled quietly, almost in a mad manner.

It was too late, it was too late. A mantra ran through his head, and he couldn't help but begin to sob. She was only seventeen. Barely old enough to leave the tribe. It was barely enough to marry, dammit! Why... Why did this happen? They were forced to do so-Do this entire fight. It razed their homeland, what more did they have to do?

There was nothing to be done, it was all for naught. No matter what, he would die, too. His wife, dying from poison that was given to them as a 'gift', his son, running ahead and fighting for the village, his body never found. Now... His daughter, dead in his arms because of his reckless thinking.

He didn't know what made him get the energy to stand, but he did so, and began to walk away, leaving those few that were alive and battling on their own.

He needed to mourn.

"I write because I wish to write. I am because I want to be. Don't question me, do you really know what's right?"

Muddy water mixed with the deep crimson blood of the zeran that laid below him. He dug the sword in deeper, hearing the younger one cry out in pain. It sounded nice, so nice. The hyattr with red laws slowly grinned, before wrenching the sword out from the young man's chest. With a horrendous screech, the zeran rolled over just paritally, making a few more dying breaths. Swiftly, the hyattr stomped down upon the creature's legs, with a loud crack coming from that area.

"You're not leaving. After all of that your family did to me, you still stood against me and tried to fight honorably? What sort of idiot are you?" He kicked them afterwards, again and again. Even when the body stopped moving, he didn't stop the assault until he knew that the other was dead. Gripping his sword tightly, he just put on a mad grin, before spreading his wings out, lifting his head and letting out a howl, a laugh that sounded like the last of his innocence fleeing from his very throat.

Long ago, he would have forgiven the zeran. Long ago, he would have forgiven anyone. However, time passed, and injuries were ripped back open. HIs love, his light, they slowly vanished from his eyes. Those that were corrupted were hunted down, seen as blemishes to the world. That was when he lost the friend that he saw as his most precious one. It wasn't like he didn't see it coming. When he heard about the hunt, he ran, flew until he got back to where his dearest friend was.

But he was too late.

When he got there, they'd already taken care of him, of the other corrupted that were in the area. The hyattr couldn't handle it. He lashed out, and somehow, he survived that fight. No matter how strong he was, he couldn't bring that friend back, however.

It was fine, this was fine. He'd go to Lazarus soon, and greet those that he lost, right?

By the will of Hyatt, he would destroy anything in his path until then.

"I write because I wish to write. I am because I want to be. Don't question me, do you really know what's right?"

"And so it was said, the pain of another, is the lifeblood of one more."

Everything on her body hurt. There was something dripping down onto her, but she couldn't tell if the wetness was rain, tears, or someone's blood. Gripping tightly at her axe, she tried to stand up, her weak flames sputtering back to life. Ringing in her ears told her that she was still alive, even as the flames licked at her body and threatened to engulf her. Cries of pain and agony were strewn about, but she could barely hear it. The sounds were like small buzzing in her ears. Groaning quietly, she wondered, vaguely, where her friends were. The ones that she was worried about. Those poor humans that were taken up by this mess.

It will be fine, she thought, as she stood to her feet, leaning forward and panting. Things will be okay, so long as I work hard and show Zera my worth. Once this is over, I'll head back home and rest, finally.

She collapsed, though, when someone suddenly blew her leg away. An explosion rune was placed behind her while she was lost in her thoughts. Falling to the ground, she just stared at the sky, as murky as it was, her vision blurred. She could hear more chanting, likely someone about to finish her off. Without putting up a fight, she simply turned her head, trying to see who exactly it was that was attacking her.

They looked to be in disrepair. A mechanation, for sure. Yet, she only offered a smile to the falling apart creation. Death, was not something she was afraid of. No, it was something that she welcomed with open arms. She was always ready for it.

Closing her eyes, she felt the heat engulf her as someone cried out, whether it was herself, or someone else, she couldn't tell. She couldn't feel. Peace, finally, from the destruction that was her life.

"There is peace in death, and yet, I cannot help but ask to live..."

"I write because I wish to write. I am because I want to be. Don't question me, do you really know what's right?"

We would fight for Oniga's glory. We had divine providence, our warrior's spirit and ability. We didn't fight like the savage Imperials, we had a grace, a finesse they could only dream to match. Sublime swordsmanship, a keen mind as sharp as our glorified katana and most importantly, the zeal for our land.

Amazing propaganda that was, a moral inspire meant to be the driving force behind conscripts--conscripts like me and the others who signed up thinking we'd bring Gold glory, that we'd gain honor and prestige from the valorous act of war.

We were all emboldened by it, we threw ourselves into our training, no matter how grueling, we spent hours meditating to reach a state of oneness with our blades, every single hurdle, most of us overcame, excelled. We were ready, we would drive back the Empire, fight and die for our land with glory and honor!

What an utter lie that all was, realizing it. Nothing, nothing that could be said would ever prepare us for this, not our training, not meditation to keep our spirits in harmony--nothing!!

I. Hate. War. Hate in only the way the fortunate few who manage to remain alive until the end do. Men lost, wills broken and shattered just as badly as our bodies. Honor? What did the mean in the face of the sneak attacks, the loss of supplies, the tactics? For the Tennou's sake, they...Our friends' bodies...desecrated... There is no honor to be found in war. No glory to be found in what is nothing more than indiscriminate murder.

Memoirs of a Swordsman on the front lines. Introduction

-- Written by Shou

"I write because I wish to write. I am because I want to be. Don't question me, do you really know what's right?"